


Perfect Storm

by wendelah1



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendelah1/pseuds/wendelah1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gillian and I are not as close as Mulder and Scully, but who could be? Nobody is as close as Mulder and Scully." - David Duchovny</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bayloriffic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayloriffic/gifts).



> This is only make-believe.

"Gillian and I are not as close as Mulder and Scully, but who could be? Nobody is as close as Mulder and Scully." - David Duchovny 

 

"Dearly Beloved: We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses..."

"I can't believe we are really doing this," Gillian muttered under her breath, the justice of the peace droning in the background. "I'm not changing my name, you know," she added.

Right on cue, David leaned slightly toward her and whispered, "That's okay. I'm easy about names." 

The officiant looked at her expectantly. "I do," she answered, projecting calm, controlled happiness. More words from the justice of the peace, then another affirmative from David. A plain gold band for him, a similar one for her, symbolizing their commitment. 

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." 

"Cut," Chris Carter called out.

"Don't I even get to kiss the bride?" David protested. Gillian just looked at him. They'd already filmed the kissing scene, more times than strictly necessary in her opinion. Not that she'd minded, exactly. The man did know how to kiss. 

Oh God. Who was she kidding? She loved kissing David. 

"Maybe we should do another couple of takes, try a different angle, while we still have the light and the preacher man here," David suggested. 

Gillian focused on her breathing. 

Chris smiled indulgently. "Let's break for lunch. We're nearly done here, people, so let's stick to the plan."

It had been a long time coming. The third installment of _The X-Files_ movie trilogy was nearly in the can, or whatever the digital equivalent was called. The movie had finally received a green light from Fox, to the surprise of everyone concerned. _The X-Files_ : The Complete Nine Seasons Blu-ray release had been a huge critical and commercial success, which apparently convinced—someone—that another film was less of a risk than conventional wisdom would have it, given the way the second movie had tanked.

After several months split between LA and Vancouver, the production was winding down. They'd spent much of their time filming in front of green screens but those scenes were done and already in the capable hands of the special effects wizards. There were just three days left of filming, after which she and David, and Chris and the rest of their film crew would go their separate ways. 

Although David and Chris discussed the possibility of more movies down the road, assuming this film did as well as it was projected to do, realistically this was going to be it, at least for her and David. Rumors continued to fly that Fox planned to reboot the series in the not-too-distant future. Gillian shuddered. She couldn't imagine anyone else playing Dana Scully. And given how David felt about their acting together as other characters, this movie was probably going to be the last time she and David would work together. She was unreasonably nostalgic given what the reality of most of their working lives had been like. Still, she'd played Scully to his Mulder for over twenty years. The most long-lasting partnership of her life was ending. 

She stood watching the crew milling around the crafts table, giving herself a moment to regain her composure. She needed to let it go. Blinking away the tears, she made her way back to her trailer where her assistant Katherine would have her lunch ready. Crying would ruin her makeup, and she didn't want to upset Fray by making him redo it, or cause a delay. 

David liked to eat with the rest of the cast and crew. As always, he developed an easy rapport with everyone from the assistant director to his hair stylist. But as she'd gotten older, Gillian found she needed to refuel during her precious breaks, to call her children, study her script or just take a nap. She was afraid it made her appear distant, even unfriendly, but she tried to make it up to people by being on time, knowing her lines and keeping her cool. 

To her surprise, David was standing beside Kate at the trailer door, holding a tray of food he'd evidently commandeered from the caterer. Her driver Evan was there as well, wearing his overcoat and scarf, keys in hand. 

"What's going on?" she asked Kate. 

Kate looked embarrassed and worried. "It's my mum. I need to get home, today if I can make the arrangements. I thought perhaps Evan could drive me to the airport and then come back for you at the end of the day?"

"It's no problem," Evan agreed.

"Of course." Kate's mom was chronically ill, something with an uncertain prognosis. Until that got sorted, Gillian might have to make do on her own. She gave Kate a quick hug. "Call me when you know something more, or whenever. Just to talk." 

She turned to David who was waiting patiently at the steps. She punched in her code and held open the door for him. "Hey. How did you get here before me? Especially carrying all that food." 

"Hey yourself," David said easily. "Your assistant had them put something together for us."

"But you usually eat..." What did that matter, since he was here with her now. She followed him up the steps into the trailer. 

"I know," he said. "But she thought it would nice if you didn't have to eat alone. Where do you..." he said, nodding at the tray.

Kate was right. She was stressed. But she didn't need David to babysit her. "Just set it on the kitchen counter," Gillian instructed. She took down two plates from the cabinet. "That looks delicious," she conceded. She set out cutlery and pulled the plastic wrapping off the tray.

"The sofa or the table?"

"Let's sit here in front of the window." Gillian liked the view of the trees from her little dinette. 

They had two key scenes left to film, the emotional bookends for the the movie. The first scene was a fight, an argument Scully and Mulder have early in the film, about the son she'd given up for adoption. Thinking back, she couldn't imagine how she could have forgotten about William. To prepare for the film, she'd made herself watch the pertinent episodes, the ones that centered around William. It was eye-opening to say the least, to watch what her character had to go through, especially in that last season. She recalled the fights she'd had during the ninth season with Chris about the plot arc, how David had stood with her and argued against it. They both felt it was unfair to her character and the fans for Scully to give William up for adoption. But in the end, Chris had stood firm: the miracle baby had to go. Okay, fine. Many loyal viewers hadn't been all that happy that William existed in the first place. They had written themselves into a corner and needed a way out. 

But why on earth did Chris have to bring him back?

The dinner break went quickly, as they passed the time with eating and occasional small talk. David was telling funny stories about the set of _Californication_ , she supposed to distract her. Things had been so much easier between them off the set since they'd reunited for the second movie. She didn't know why. Had David mellowed? Had she? The onscreen chemistry was just as it had always been, effortless and omnipresent. What was new was the closeness between them that had developed off the set this time around.

Perhaps the finality of this production had led to them seeking each other out, but especially the last two months, they'd been inseparable. They'd watched old movies on Netflix and new movies on HBO and Showtime. David had introduced her to _Sports Night_ and she had got him to watch _Fringe_. They'd talked about their childhoods, David growing up in New York, her in London. Why they had both gravitated to their home towns once the series ended. They'd even gone to see Emmy Lou Harris in concert, one precious Thursday night midway through the filming. 

It was as close to dating as they'd ever gotten, but the careful line between friend and lover was never breached. David would kiss her over and over and over again as long as the cameras were rolling, but off the set, he behaved like her big brother. She had no idea how to change it or how he would react if she tried.

"How old are your kids now?" 

An ordinary question between two people who just work together. She was pregnant while they were promoting the last movie, so she'd have thought he'd have remembered that. He'd patted her baby belly often enough. She began with her youngest. "Felix was born October 15th in 2008 so he's seven and a half now; Oscar is two years older. Piper is..."

"I know how old Piper is," he said quietly. Of course he remembered Piper's birthday. He was the first person she had told about the pregnancy, even before she'd told Clyde. The entire course of the second season was changed because of her giving birth to Piper. 

"I was just wondering if you and Mark had talked about schools yet for the boys."

"We have. Nothing's been decided," she said carefully. It hadn't gone well. But despite the breakup, she and Mark had remained friends; they'd work it out. 

David looked thoughtful. "It's funny how magnified everything becomes when parents divorce. Not that picking a school isn't a landmine anyway." 

"Yes, I know," she said dryly. 

At least David had the grace to look embarrassed. "Yeah, I suppose you would." Things between David and Tea were unusually cordial for a divorced couple. Neither of them had had a serious relationship since they'd separated, which could have made her happy, except Gillian harbored the suspicion that David would go back to Tea in a heartbeat if she'd have him. This made her feel unreasonably jealous. She had no claim on him.

Years before, she and David had spent one weekend together, right after they'd finished shooting the pilot. She'd fallen hard for him: he was brilliant, funny, drop-dead gorgeous--and then there was the sex. She'd thought he might have feelings for her too, but he'd never called her back in LA. Suddenly, he was her costar, and therefore off-limits, as least as far as David was concerned. 

She had the most intense chemistry with him, personal and professional, of anyone she'd ever known, but in a few short days, she'd be back to seeing him twice a year and the occasional text-message. It went without saying that she'd kept every text he'd ever sent her. 

The truth was she'd fallen for him again, and she hadn't seen it coming.

He cleared his throat. "This shrimp tastes like it just came off the boat. How's your tofu burger?" 

"It's fine." And it was, sitting untouched on her plate getting cold. 

David looked over his sandwich at her. "You're not still worrying about those scenes, are you?"

"A little," Gillian said, avoiding his eyes. She was dreading them, actually, and she wasn't sure why. Chris Carter's script put the fate of William at the emotional center of the film. Briefly, Mulder and Scully are reunited with him during colonization; after the planet is saved, he and his parents return to their ranch in Wyoming. Gillian agreed this was what should happen, but still, Mulder and Scully save humanity from the threat of certain annihilation, only to lose their son--again. The script hinted that they might have contact with him at some point in the future, but the story ends with Mulder and Scully in front of their house, watching as William waves good-bye from the back seat of his parents' Chevy truck, as it heads back to Wyoming. Mulder and Scully reacting to losing him again was the other key moment left to film. Sometimes she hated Chris Carter.

"We've rehearsed this. You know the lines cold. We're a few scenes and a half dozen takes from wrapping this up. Stop fretting. Eat." 

David was probably right. She picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of pineapple. "Do you think they'll ever see him again?" she said wistfully.

David looked at her closely and put down his sandwich. "You mean Mulder and Scully. Yeah, they'll see him again, maybe sooner than they think. I'm sure of it." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. He probably thought she was an idiot for over-thinking it but she didn't care. 

The moment was interrupted by loud rapping on her trailer door. David slipped his hand away. 

"Come in, it's open," she called out.

It was Peter, the set production assistant. He stared, first at David then at Gillian."I wondered where you'd gone. Sorry to cut this short but Chris wants everyone back on set." No hello, no "how's it going guys," just marching orders. Gillian had disliked the man practically on sight. 

"What's the rush?" David asked as he began clearing the table. 

"Just leave it. I'll send one of the interns over to clean up. We need to get rolling as soon as possible. That storm front that wasn't expected until the weekend—it's hitting early."

Gillian started laughing. "It's been drizzling on and off all day. It's Vancouver." Ignoring Peter's instruction about the clean up, she picked up the plates and forks and set them in the sink. 

Following her lead, David wrapped up the leftovers and put them on a shelf in the refrigerator. "We've filmed in the middle of a snow storm before. What's the big deal?"

Peter held up his hands, shrugging. "Look, I'm just the messenger. Take it up with your director. We'll see you in five, okay?"

After Peter left, David pulled out his cell phone. "I'm going to talk to Chris."

"No, David. It's okay. Let's just get this over with." Chris had a lot on his plate. Maybe there was some sort of weather event in the offing. And she didn't need David to talk to Chris for her. 

"Are you sure? Because if you need a little more time?" 

David seemed genuinely concerned for her, which made her feel unexpectedly warm. "I'm ready," she said. And, suddenly, she was. "Let's do this." 

~//~//~

"Okay, Gillian, I think that's all it needed. Now let's hope the weather cooperates." Fray finished reapplying the last touches of powder to her face. He stood back to let her up from the make-up chair. A flash of lightening stopped her, followed by the not-so-distant sound of thunder. They both got up to peer out the bedroom window. The rain, which had been light and intermittent all morning, was now coming down in earnest, pounding loudly on the roof of the trailer.

"That doesn't look or sound good. I think the storm we've been expecting is here." Fray was a master of understatement. "Well, there's nothing to do now but sit and wait for it to stop." 

Gillian frowned. They could film in light drizzle but not in this downpour. Damn it. She wanted to get this done. 

"I'm sorry, my dear. Maybe a cup of tea?" he suggested. Damn. She must look as upset as she felt. When something goes wrong, offer tea. She turned toward the kitchen.

"Why don't you let me make it this time?" he asked gently. 

"Sure." She forced a smile. "Tea sounds great. Thanks, Fray." 

"You've got some lovely jasmine," he called out from the kitchen. 

"Fine. Whatever you find." It was already three. They'd be losing the light soon, assuming the rain did let up. It was too late already to talk to her kids, nearly 11 p.m. in London. They'd be at their father's, tucked in and sleeping soundly. It wouldn't be fair to Mark—or their nanny, Jenny— to wake them.

"Maybe I'll make a pot. We have plenty of time." He rummaged in a cupboard. "Look! Coffee Crisps!"

She and Fray had no sooner settled in with their tea when the call came. Chris was calling it quits for the day. Everyone could head back into town until the weather cleared. 

"Well, I guess I'd better head out and find Jeff. We drove in together. If he agrees, we might just take a chance and head back to Vancouver. I don't think this storm is going to be letting up any time soon if the weather report's to be believed." 

"Really," Gillian answered. Damn. She was going to have to call her driver. She'd forgotten he could be anywhere between here and the regional airport, assuming Kate got a flight at all. Maybe she should call Kate first?

"I'm just going to let myself out," Fray said, picking up his umbrella and opening up the door. "Oh. David. I didn't hear you coming, it's raining so hard."

"I'm running in stealth mode," David said, stepping inside. He was wearing heavy rain gear: pants, poncho and boots, every inch soaked and dripping water all over the carpeted floor. 

"Come in and shut the door. I'll get you a towel." She started to walk to the bathroom, when David reached for her arm. She looked alarmed and pulled her arm away. "David, you're getting water everywhere." 

"Don't bother with the towel, I'm heading out again in five minutes." David even sounded wet. 

"I'm heading out right now," Fray announced, looking from David to Gillian. 

"Gillian, why don't you go with me? I don't like the idea of you waiting here for Evan." 

Gillian looked around her trailer. "Why? It's dry, it's warm. I can turn on the fireplace and nap while I wait..." As if on cue, the lights in the trailer shut off, leaving them in the afternoon shadows. 

"I don't suppose someone forgot to pay the hydro bill?" Fray ventured. 

David shook his head. "Nearly everything is being powered by generator. The crew is battening down the hatches, packing up everything as fast as they can and heading back to town." He turned to Gillian. "Call Evan. Please. Tell him to go home and stay put. I'll get you back to your hotel."

"I think that's a fine plan," Fray said hastily. "I can see you're in good hands. Gillian. David. Drive safely." He pulled up the collar on his windbreaker, opened his plaid umbrella, and stepped out into the deluge. 

"He's going to get soaked just walking to his car," Gillian said. 

"Tell me about it," David muttered. 

"Are you sure you don't want a towel?" she offered again. 

"No." There was more than a trace of irritation in his voice. "I just want to get on the road. I don't want to be driving in this after dark." He tried wiping his face with his sleeve but only succeeded in making it wetter. "Fuck. Maybe I will take that towel." 

Finally. Gillian walked into the bathroom to grab one. She glanced in the mirror. "Can I take off my make-up at least?" 

David groaned. 

"Fine." She handed him the towel. While he mopped his face and hair, she slipped on her raincoat, tied a scarf over her hair, and found her umbrella and purse. "I'll do it when I get back to the hotel."

"Fine." 

~//~//~

There was more traffic heading into town than she would have expected. They'd made decent time up to this point, despite the rain and the two lane roads that led back to the highway. She'd feel better if they were riding in something more practical than this ridiculous Prius that David always insisted on renting. They were idling at the intersection, waiting for the light to change, ten or twelve cars ahead of them, when several of them begin to turn out and make U-turns. 

"Now what." She could barely make out a tall man in a black poncho moving down the line of vehicles. He stopped alongside their car, holding up what looked like a badge, and gestured for David to put down his window. He cracked it open a couple of inches.

"Why are we stopped?" David asked politely.

"You're going to have to turn around, Sir. The bridge up ahead is flooded." The policeman sounded apologetic. She knew it. Now, if he'd rented something sensible, like a Range Rover...

"We're on our way back into town. The film set was shut down," David explained.

"Because of the rain," Gillian added unnecessarily.

The officer peered into the car. "Oh. You're Agent Mulder. I thought I recognized your voice. I sure liked your show. The wife and I, we watched it faithfully, especially when you were filming up here. "

"Yes, I'm David Duchovny. Thank you, it's kind of you to say so," David said.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Officer Joseph Ryckman. It wasn't as good when you moved the show to Los Angeles."

"Well, that's one opinion." 

David, shut up. "You're not alone in thinking that, Officer Ryckman," Gillian said, smiling at the policeman. 

"But you and your girlfriend, Mr. Duchovny, you're going to have to turn your vehicle around," Officer Ryckman repeated firmly.

 _Girlfriend?_ She's the co-star of the fucking series, not the girlfriend. 

"Got it. You have any suggestions on how to proceed?" David asked. 

"Well, no. I can't say that I do. This isn't the only road that leads to the highway, but I can't guarantee I can get you there from here, given the road conditions. I think you're going to have to go back, maybe try some back roads in the daylight."

"Thank you, Officer." David carefully made his U-turn and started to backtrack. 

"Maybe we should have stayed in the trailer after all," Gillian ventured.

"We might end up going back there unless you have a better suggestion." David frowned, then reached over and turned on the window defroster. 

"You have a GPS in this?" Gillian pulled her phone out and began scrolling through her contacts.

"Of course. But if we don't have a destination in mind, it's not going to help us." 

"That's true, but I think I know a place where we can go." 

~//~//~

"It's lovely to see you again, Ms. Anderson. It's been too long," said the proprietor of The Backwoods Inn, a handsome, gray-haired woman in her late fifties. She looked at Gillian's hand as she was signing the registration. "I see you've remarried again." 

Oh shit. She was still wearing Scully's wedding band. In her rush to leave, she'd forgotten to take it off. 

The innkeeper appraised David, who was standing in the entry, trying to look inconspicuous. "Well, at least this one is good-looking." She smiled slyly. "I have to admit, I always hoped you two would end up together."

"We're not...actually a couple." Gillian made herself breathe. _Fuck._

"It's okay, dear. I know the drill. 'Deny Everything.'" She winked. "I'm never full this time of year but tonight I only have a double left, so many people have been stranded with the bridge being flooded. Maybe there are some other movie folk here. Shall I check the dining room for you?"

"No, that's fine," Gillian managed. "We'll let them know we're here." _When hell freezes over._

The signs of an aging establishment in dire need of a face-lift were everywhere. Faded Laura Ashley wallpaper, chipped paint, a color scheme that screamed 1989 were just the things she spotted on the way to their room. Everything appeared clean, however, and the banister smelled like lemon furniture polish. 

The room still had old-fashioned locks and keys, too. She closed the door and automatically flipped the deadbolt into place. Opening the door to the small wardrobe, she removed a hanger for her raincoat. Two dressing gowns hung side by side. She could sleep in one of them, she supposed.

"I remembered this place being much nicer," she confessed. She hung the rain coat on the hook in the bathroom. 

"It's not so bad. Shabby chic, right? Who was the guy you came here with?" he asked.

Not Clyde. Even in its heyday, this place wouldn't have suited him. "Rodney. We'd come here on the rare occasion my day off coincided with Piper being with her dad."

Soap, shower gel, shampoo. Some scented body lotion. Well, it would have to do. She had to get the makeup off her skin. Waiting for the water to warm up, she studied her reflection in the small bathroom mirror. She was going to have to sleep in the false eyelashes or risk pulling out her own. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Carefully she wiped the soapy washcloth over her face, painstakingly removing the makeup. No toner; instead she rinsed and rinsed until her complexion was free of the soap residue. She dabbed the lotion on and patted it all over her complexion. 

Her laugh lines were deeper, the fine lines around her eyes more pronounced. She was turning 48 in a few months. On a good day, she could still pass for 40, but she was well aware that the competition for the acting roles she wanted was getting steeper every year. Well, even if she never got another part, she'd had a career most actors could only dream of. Shaking off the mood, she smoothed down her hair. She missed being a redhead. She'd miss being _this_ redhead.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, David had shed his rain gear and boots, and was kneeling on the throw rug in front of the gas fireplace, fiddling with the ignition switch. 

"Bathroom's yours," she said. Was he feeling as uneasy as she was about this set-up?

"I'm going to ask for extra blankets and pillows, that way I can sleep on the floor," David said, as though reading her mind.

"Don't be silly. The floor is hard and cold. Anyway, it's not like we've never shared a bed before." 

"That was a long time ago," he said, looking over at her. "What time does the dining room close?" 

"Nine, I think. Why don't you go without me? I'm tired, and anyway..."

"People will talk?" he finished. The gas log flamed up. "There. That should take the chill off this room. Do you really care at this point?" He patted the braided rug. "Come on. Talk to me. "

Gillian couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Don't you? You've always been so—adamant— about denying we were involved." She grabbed the bed pillows and sat down on the rug next to him, handing one to him. Pulling off her boots, she folded her legs up underneath her and held her hands toward the fire's warmth. 

"I thought that was what you wanted. Besides, Chris would have fired me if he thought I'd sullied your virtue," he added, keeping his eyes on the fire.

Gillian snorted. "Right. Seriously, David. I think we have a problem. In the rush I forgot to take off Scully's wedding band." She held up her left hand. "Mrs. Innkeeper thinks we're married. She told me she'd 'always hoped we'd end up together.'"

"So where's the problem? Assuming it gets leaked, the fans and the gossip blogs will go crazy. The studio will love it. My press agent will deny everything, just as always, and the rumors will die down, eventually. So will the rain, so we can get back to work and get this over with." 

_Get this over with._ "Yeah, okay. You're right." She tried to smile. "It's funny how we've switched roles in this little comedy of errors. Now I'm the one worrying about what people will think and you're all 'whatever.' Why is that?"

"You really want to know? I think it's because I've given up," 

She shifted closer to him, fighting the urge to take his hand. "On what?" 

"We're never going to be more than friends. This is it. And it's not so bad, really, seeing you a couple of times a year, texting whenever the gossip gets stupid. Being your friend, it's more than I think I deserve on most days."

"David..." 

"Look, do you think I haven't wondered what would have happened if I had called you instead of blowing you off after that weekend? But I didn't. The next thing I knew we were working together and then you were seeing Clyde and I was with Perry." 

"You want what they have with one another. Our characters." And he wanted it with her. Except David believed that it was impossible, despite everything they had been to one another, everything they'd been through, all the stuff that no one else understood and that no one ever could. 

"Minus the aliens and the government cover-up and all of the other shit the writers dumped on them. Sure. Doesn't everyone want that kind of intimacy? Playing them, working with you, that's closer than most people get."

"And now it's almost over." 

"It is."

Her heart started beating faster. "I want that, too." 

"That's what I just said, it's what everyone thinks they want when they look at Mulder and Scully." David smiled indulgently.

 _Oh for pete's sake._ "David, don't be an idiot. I mean I want it with you." Then she kissed him, tentatively at first, then more deeply when he began responding to her. Pushing him back onto the rug, she straddled him and began unbuttoning his shirt. 

He took her hands away from his buttons and kissed each finger tenderly. "Um. Are you sure this is what you want, that this isn't just nostalgia-fueled lust? Because if you are sure, we do have a bed over there. I'm an old man and as you've already mentioned, this floor is pretty damn hard." 

"It is, and I'm sure." She rolled off him so he could sit up, barely resisting the urge to reach over and stroke his erection through his pants. 

David looked serious. "If we do this, you need to know some things. As a condition of sexual sobriety, I can't have sex outside of a committed relationship and for me, that means marriage. The logistics won't be easy, with you in London, and me in New York, plus the travel we both do for work. Our kids are always going to come first, so we'll be spending holidays and vacations apart until they're much older," he warned.

She knew about the committed relationship part: David had mentioned it back when he first went into rehab, but the marriage condition was new. "Wait. David, did you just ask me to marry you?" she said, trying to sound cool and collected. She needed to channel her inner Scully. 

"Yes. I guess I did," he conceded. "There's a reason we've both stayed single, since my divorce from Tea and your separation from Mark."

Well, she'd been assuming in her case, it was due to working for a living and raising two young boys, and an unrequited obsession with his ex for him, but this was much better: unbeknownst to the other, they'd each been secretly in love with their co-star. David loves Gillian and Gillian loves David. True Love Waits!

"You're a real mood killer, you know," she said affectionately. "And bonus points for the least romantic marriage proposal in modern history, which I accept. Now can we have sex, please?"

David smiled. "Yes. Yes, we can. I'll have to see what I can do about getting you back into the mood." 

~//~//~

They'd woken up first to David's and then her cell phone ringing at 4:00 a.m., with instructions to report back to the set by 8:00. 

"Shortest honeymoon on record," David had grumbled.

"We'll plan to go on a real honeymoon, when we're actually married," Gillian had soothed. She had no idea when that was going to happen, but they were going to have premarital sex as often as possible. 

Chris said he hoped to film the last two scenes today to make up for losing yesterday to rain. If they managed that, they'd have the wrap party this weekend, and everyone would head their separate ways. She had another series of _The Fall_ to film. David undoubtedly had some project or other he was working on. Being with him last night had been wonderful, and would be wonderful again, she was sure, but she still had to get through the rest of the shoot. She couldn't worry about David or their future today.

The sky had started out bright and clear, but had quickly turned cloudy, which was just as well since they'd filmed the fight scene first. It had left her surprisingly shaken. She didn't know which was worse: Mulder yelling at Scully about losing William, or David being angry at her for some future grievance. She knew what David was like when he was angry: cold, sarcastic, bitter, hostile, even defensive. Thinking about being on the receiving end made her jittery and sad. But Scully's character, Scully's emotions came sailing through when the camera rolled, just as always. 

One last scene.

She sat in the make-up chair in her trailer, Fray at her side, working his magic. "Thank you, Fray, she said suddenly. "It's been wonderful working with you again."

"Thank you, my dear. The feeling is mutual, I assure you." Fray put the last touch of blush on her cheek and stood back to look at his work. "Your natural beauty makes my job very easy."

"Thank you," she said simply. 

"I hear the bridge back to the highway was flooded last night. We must have just squeaked through. Where did you and David end up staying?" he asked casually.

Should she tell him? Oh why the hell not. He'd find out when they announced it at the wrap party anyway. "We spent the night at The Backwoods Inn—together. We're going to get married, Fray, as soon as we can figure out when." And where, and how to raise four children in two separate cities, while still trying to be working actors. 

Fray put his arms around her, beaming. "Well, I'd say it's about time. I always hoped you two would end up together." 

Gillian started giggling. She had better get used to hearing that line. "Oh, me too." She hugged him back. It would all work out. 

A knock at the door let her know they were ready for her on set. "I'm coming." But instead of Peter the Terrible or one of the interns, David was standing there, looking completely adorable. 

Fray extended his hand to David. "I understand congratulations are in order. Better treat her well, my friend." 

David looked startled but shook hands. "Thank you, I will, don't worry." 

"I imagine you two have some things to say so I'm going to head to the set." Fray took off, leaving them alone.

"I was expecting Peter or maybe one of his minions." She couldn't stop looking at him. God, he was so gorgeous and he was all hers now. 

"I told Chris I wanted a couple of minutes with you before we did the scene. I'm dying to kiss you but I don't want to wreck your makeup. How about a hug? You seemed a little shaken by that last scene." 

"Yeah. I could use that hug," She went into his arms gratefully. "Was I this emotional when we shot the last movie?" 

"I think we were both riding the high of getting to work together again. I think the whole crew was. " He hesitated for a moment. "Chris added a couple of lines to the scene. We thought it might help the audience out, bring some closure. You won't have to say anything new, just be yourself, well, be Scully." He held out the sheet. 

She scanned for the new lines. "William's dad invites us to visit him. In Wyoming. Wow." 

"Yeah, it seems such an obvious fix, I don't know why we didn't think of it before. It's better in the long run for William, and certainly better for Mulder and Scully. And they did just save humanity from the alien menace. It seems like the right thing to happen." 

If not a perfect ending, it certainly was a better one than she'd expected for their characters. An ending she could live with. And once they worked out the details, a new life together with David. She couldn't be any happier. 

"Ready to do this?" David asked, holding out his hand. 

"I am," she answered, taking his hand in hers. "Let's go."

 

~//~//~

"Dearly Beloved: We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses..."

"I still can't believe we're doing this," Gillian mutters under her breath, the justice of the peace droning in the background. "I'm not changing my name, you know," she adds.

David leans slightly toward her and whispers, "That's okay. I'm easy about names." 

The officiant looks at her expectantly. "I do," she answers. More words from the justice of the peace.

David says, "I do." They place the bands of gold, symbolizing their commitment. "This is my beloved and this is my friend."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." 

They begin to kiss. It's a messy, open-mouthed, no-holds-barred kiss, to the delighted applause of the crew and cast. 

"Cut," Chris Carter calls out. Someone screwed up, so this scene is another retake, but the next time they exchange marriage vows, they know it will be for real. Forever.

They keep kissing.


End file.
